Redemption: Consequences
by Leon Stryfe
Summary: After the events of Trio, the gang scrambles to find out exactly what condition Spike is in and just what they can do to help. However, the Scoobies aren't the only ones trying to help. Can Angel Investigations find the cure for Spike's condition?
1. Consequences: Teaser

**A/N:** _As always, a thousand thanks to my beta, OrinForeverCrimson! I'm going to attempt to be a bit more consistent with this story in the Redemption series. Expect an update once every two weeks or sooner. So, please R&R, but most importantly, enjoy! _

* * *

The Scoobies entered the Summers home with Giles carrying Spike's limp form in his arms. He put the vampire down on the couch and stepped back so that Dawn could sit with him. Despite previous tensions, the Scoobies sought out the comfort of their loved ones. Tara and Willow held each other close while Anya clung tightly to Xander. With Dawn's arms wrapped around the motionless Spike, only Giles was without someone to hold. Perhaps mercifully, he did not dwell on that fact. Instead, Giles turned to Willow.

"Willow," he said softly, "see if you can use your, er, computer to find any information about cases like Spike's within the vampire community. _Reliable_ information," Giles hastened to add, knowing that the world was rife with false information about vampires. "My personal library should finally be arriving from England tomorrow. When it gets here I'll see if it contains anything about things like... this," Giles waved his hand towards Spike's direction. Willow nodded her understanding.

"Maybe Tara and Anya can go through some mystical channels while we do that." While Anya was happy to be included in the planning, a confused look crossed Tara's face. It wasn't that she was opposed to Willow's idea, it was that Tara thought that Willow would also be the better choice at covering any mystical angle that Tara could come up with. Anya would of course know several demonic routes to obtain information, so that part made sense, at least. Tara hoped that it was simply that Willow knew that she wouldn't be able to do two things at once and had enough faith in Tara that her love could pick up her slack.

"What do you want me to do?" Dawn's face was tear streaked and her voice cracked as she spoke. Giles had no idea that the girl cared so much for Spike.

"Exactly what you're doing now. If Spike is in the vampire equivalent of a coma, then perhaps the nearness of friends will help draw him out of it." Dawn smiled at Giles and held Spike even tighter. Giles returned the smile with one that did not reach his eyes. He turned away, making sure that everyone understood what they needed to do. As he walked towards the kitchen, Xander slipped away from Anya and walked after him.

"Giles, I'm just gonna' say what I'm thinking." Giles was fairly certain that, whatever it was, it wasn't going to be useful. Still, he nodded anyway, giving Xander the go ahead to continue. "I don't know if anyone else saw it, but there was more than just blood coming out of Spike's ears. I don't think he's coming out of this." There was no hate or malice in Xander's voice. Gone was the enmity he had felt for Spike earlier in the day. The vampire had quite possibly sacrificed himself to save Dawn. Whatever else Xander may have thought about him, he would never forget Spike's actions that night.

"I know," was Giles' quiet, defeated response. "But not only does he mean a great deal to several of the people in this house, but he has come to be our greatest line of defence against the outpourings of the hellmouth. Without him..." Giles left his sentence unfinished. He didn't know what they would do without Spike. From the look on his face, neither did Xander. Both turned and looked back into the living room, looking over the friends and loved ones arranged therein. If Spike really was down for the permanent count, who would pick up the enormous task of defending Sunnydale and the people they cared for? Who could?

* * *

Angel walked through the Hyperion doors, finding Cordelia at the reception desk. A quick glance around told him that she was the only other person in the immediate area.

"Where's everybody at?" Angel was a little agitated until Cordelia pointed to the clock. "Oh. I, uh, didn't realize it was that late." Cordelia looked him over, taking in his bedevilled hair and distressed clothing, before smiling.

"So," Cordelia said coyly. Angel just stared at her, then looked down at himself before looking back at her.

"What?"

"So, did you repay your debt to the Furies?" Cordelia was certain that, if a vampire could blush, Angel's face would be bright red. He searched for a witty rejoinder before finally giving up, exasperated.

"So why are you still up?"

"The PTP sent me a message. Don't worry," Cordelia interrupted herself, putting to rest Angel's fears, "nobody is dying. You're to go down to the old Oracle room. Someone will be waiting for you there."

"Who is it supposed to be?" The wide smile that spread across Cordelia's face told him that she knew exactly who it was. It also told him that she wasn't going to share that information with him. "Right. Okay, tell everyone where I went. If I'm not back by daylight, send in the cavalry."

"Right-o, boss!" Cordelia's voice was extra chipper. Angel wracked his brain, trying to think of who could make the socialite that happy. He walked a little towards the doors before whirling back around towards Cordelia again.

"Look, will you just tell me wh-"

"Get moving, big guy," Cordelia interrupted him with a smile and made a shooing motion towards the door. Angel's shoulders slumped in defeat. However, he couldn't help tossing a caring smile back her way before he walked back outside towards his destination.

After a half hour of travelling, Angel stood before the sewer portal leading to the room of the Oracles. He hadn't been there in over a year, not since his battle with Vocah. He was fairly certain that the Oracles themselves were still dead, leaving him to wonder just who was on the other side of the glowing portal before him.

"Here goes nothing," Angel said before entering the portal. He found himself in the room that the Oracles had once held court in. While it had been cleaned, the room was more or less the same as it had always been. Angel turned around, looking for his mystery host. After a few short moments, he was already irritated with the wait.

"Don't you people have something better to do?" Angel queried the empty space around him angrily. "I know _I've_ got better things to do."

"Better? Maybe, but I need you for something _important._" The voice was a voice that Angel knew well, a voice that was certain that he would never hear again. When he turned around to face the person speaking, Angel's heart lodged itself in his throat.

* * *

Spike opened his eyes to find himself in an unfamiliar place. He stood, taking note of the fact that he no longer ached in every muscle. He looked in every direction, trying to find a familiar landmark, something to identify where he was. Spike had travelled to just about every continent on Earth in his time, but he could not place where he was at. The land was barren and dark, the sky a dingy grey with neither sun nor stars to be seen.

"Anybody home?" Despite his words, the volume he used suggested that he wasn't trying very hard to discover the answer to his question. Spike noticed a large hill in the distance and began walking towards it in no particular hurry.

Along the way, the events of the past few hours came back to him. He remembered the fight at Willy's Place, the explosion in the nerds' basement, and the fiery bomb of pain that went off in his brain. He touched a hand to his head, recalling exactly just how much pain he had been in. As he walked, Spike mulled over those events and combined that with the area he found himself in currently. After a small amount of time, he came to the distinct conclusion that he was dead.

When he crested the hill, he gazed out to the horizon. What he saw solidified for him exactly where he was and it what state. Spike's legs turned to rubber, causing him to spill onto his rear.

"Bloody 'ell. So _this _is where demons go when they die."

"No, just the lucky ones," said a familiar female voice from behind him. Spike's eyes went wide before he whipped himself around and sprang to his feet. He blinked several times before he was certain the woman in front of him was real.

"Buffy?"


	2. Consequences: Act I

**A/N:** _A thousand thanks to my Beta, Orin Forever Crimson. Thanks to those of you kind enough to leave a review; I truly appreciate it. As promised, I sticking with a sped up schedule thus far. I plan to have Act II out by the 28th or sooner, so stay tuned. So, please R&R but most importantly, enjoy!_

* * *

_**"Redemption"**_

**Episode 4**

**"Consequences"**

_by Leon Stryfe_

**Starring:**

James Marsters as "Spike"

Michelle Trachtenberg as "Dawn Summers"

Nicholas Brendan as "Alexander 'Xander' Harris"

Alyson Hannigan as "Willow Rosenberg"

Amber Benson as "Tara Maclay"

Emma Caulfield as "Anya Jenkins"

and

Anthony Stewart Head as "Rupert Giles"

**Guest Starring:**

Kali Rocha as "Halfrek"

Alexis Denisof as "Wesley Wyndam-Pryce"

Charisma Carpenter as "Cordelia Chase"

David Boreanaz as "Angel"

and

Sarah Michelle Gellar as "Buffy Summers"

"Buffy?" Angel stared, open mouthed, at his former love. He had barely come to terms with her death and now she was standing in front of him. But something seemed off to him. "You're not real." His voice grew harsh, his anger for the ruse he believed the Powers were playing on him rising.

"Define real. I'm the girl you knew, the one you loved." Buffy stopped, noticing that her words weren't having any real effect on Angel. "Do I really need to repeat some of the things you whispered to me on our only night together?" This time her words got through, as Angel's face fell. He was quiet for a moment before he looked up at her again.

"But you're not alive."

"Hey, neither are you!" If Angel needed any more proof that this was Buffy, her angry outburst provided it. Buffy smiled a nervous apology at him before scrunching her nose up. "Hey, don't make me get all metaphysicy. It's _so_ not my area of expertise." Angel smiled and nodded.

"Not that I'm not grateful to see you, but why are you here? How are you here?" It was Buffy's turn to look forlorn.

"I need you to do something for me, something you're not going to like. I need you to help me save William." Angel was confused at first, not knowing who William was. And then, it came to him.

"Spike." The hatred in his voice was so palpable that it caused Buffy to wince.

"I know that you guys aren't the best of friends but I-"

"No," Angel said before Buffy could finish pleading her case.

"Look, you don't understand what he-"

"I said no," Angel interrupted her again, turning away from her angrily. "I know that he's been a good dog since he got the leash put on his brain but he is still a _monster_."

"He sacrificed himself to save Dawn's life." Those words drained all the venom out of Angel as he turned back around and saw Buffy's face. "I wouldn't ask if you weren't the only one who could help." When she saw the hurt look that ran across Angel's face, Buffy hastened to modify her statement. "No! I didn't mean it like that! I meant that you're the only one who can help Spike, not that you're the last person I would turn to when I need help. You know I'm not good with speeches, right?" Angel couldn't help but smile. This was the woman he had loved for years, the woman who still owned a piece of his unbeating heart. How could he say no?

"What happened?"

"Dawn was kidnapped by some real losers, boys I had fought in the past. Their leader, Warren, went coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs and tried to kill everyone. Then he put a gun to Dawn's head. And then Spike..." Buffy's voice grew thick with emotion before she finished her sentence. "Spike broke his neck, causing the chip to explode in his head. It... it melted his brain." She was on the verge of tears so Angel moved to comfort her. As he went to put his arms around her, his hands moved right through Buffy's form. "Yeah," she said, sniffling, "that's the _unreal_ part you mentioned. I can't touch anything _here_ and it can't touch me."

"How can I help?" Angel could hardly believe that the words had come out of his mouth. The look on Buffy's face, however, let him know that he'd made the right choice. Her eyes danced as she recited the message given her by the Powers.

"'The champion of the Angels' city must provide the font of life for the defender of the dale of the Sun.' Then they went on and on about an apocalypse and said that he was needed to shine shoes, or something like that." Angel got the feeling that Buffy didn't really understand exactly what she was relaying. She obviously knew who the champion and the defender were, but the font of life must have meant as little to her as it did to Angel. And why would they need Spike to shine shoes? He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

"I'll get my team together, try to see what we can find. We'll," Angel stopped momentarily, as if stunned, before beginning again. "I can't believe I'm about to say this, but we'll find a way to save Spike." Speaking the words seemed to leave a visible bad taste in Angel's mouth, causing Buffy to laugh softly.

"Angel... thank you. For everything." Buffy reached out her hand towards Angel's face but stopped when she remembered her physical state. She let her arm drop back to her side and she smiled. "Take care of Cordelia for me." Buffy's voice began to fade away just as she did. By the time her sentence was finished she was gone from the room. Still, Angel didn't miss the wink she threw his way before she had completely vanished.

He stood there for a moment, unsure whether to laugh or cry. His dead former lover had just come to him asking his help in reviving a monster that he had helped create over one hundred years ago. Still, it wasn't the weirdest thing that he had ever done, and what kind of champion would he be if he refused a dead heroine's last request?

* * *

The morning had brought about no change in Spike's condition. Giles awoke early and started his tea sombrely. As he passed by the living room he discovered that Dawn had fallen asleep there on the couch, Spike's head cradled in her lap. He had chosen not to disturb the girl and to let her have her rest. When Giles received his library early in the morning, he did so as quietly as possible and then began immediately to search through it for anything useful. He had yet to find anything by the time Tara walked into the kitchen.

"Morning," she said quietly. He nodded his greetings to her and continued perusing his books in an attempt to find any information at all which could help them. By the time she had finished making breakfast, Willow had come downstairs and Dawn had joined them in the kitchen. They ate moderately and in relative silence, no one able to overcome their sombre feelings. After they had eaten, everyone began work on their respective roles.

Tara began searching for any mystical information that would help. Willow scoured the internet to see what, if anything, she could find. Xander called and said that he and Anya were talking to various contacts that she had made whist she had been a Vengeance demon. Even Dawn was helping by aiding Giles in his search.

The hours rolled by, everyone buried in their respective investigations. After his fifth cup of tea, Giles dropped his book to the table and sighed wearily. He removed his glasses and began massaging the bridge of his nose. Everyone stopped what they were doing but it was Willow who voiced their thoughts.

"So, nothing yet?"

"Nothing that is _helpful_, no." The tone of his voice suggested that he had found something that he didn't like. Willow might not agree with Dawn's romantic feelings for Spike, but she didn't want her to hear whatever it was that Giles had found.

"Tara, why don't you and Dawnie go get us something for lunch? Research on an empty stomach leads to bad things." Willow infused her words with as much humour as she could muster, hoping that Dawn wouldn't see through what she was trying to do. It didn't look like it was going to work until Tara picked up on exactly what Willow was trying to do.

"Sounds like a good idea. Dawn, you pick the place and we'll get something for everyone." It looked like Dawn was about to object but instead she nodded and smiled slightly. Willow and Giles placed their orders for a large number of eventualities and Tara and Dawn went out in search of food. As soon as the door closed, Willow turned intently to the former watcher, wanting him to share what he had found.

"It doesn't look good," Giles said, knowing exactly what Willow was waiting for. "Vampires have amazing healing capacities, perhaps even better than a Slayer's, but there are limits. Vampires cannot regenerate lost extremities, for instance. If you cut off a vampire's hand, it will neither regrow nor reattach without other mystical aid." Giles stopped and flipped open the book he had been reading before Tara and Dawn had left. "This is perhaps most damaging to our cause. An account from a Watcher circa 1747." Giles passed the book over to Willow while he continued to describe its contents.

"During the War of Austrian Secession, known as King Georges' War on this side of the Atlantic, the Spanish forces attacked a small city on the North Carolinian coast. The Spanish, desperate to regain their former glory no matter the cost, used demons in their attacks. Before the Slayer of that time and her Watcher could arrive to aid the local militia forces, they had managed to defeat the demons on their own. Upon their arrival they did, however, take note of a vampire body the militia had, for whatever reason, salvaged."

"'The men pointed me towards an unmoving form,'" Willow began to read aloud, word for word, the description in Giles' book. "'The body of the vampyre, for it could be mistaken for no other creature on this earth, with its rigid brow and protruding fangs, had been wounded in the head. A musket shot had penetrated the creature's skull, leaving it even more lifeless than other creatures of its ilk. We transported the fiend back to the Council for further studious endeavours.' Giles, I know that this doesn't sound good but we don't have the rest of the information. That journal entry ends there." Willow looked up at Giles, knowing that he wouldn't have brought this up if he didn't have some other piece of the puzzle. However, she hoped that this was all the information on this case that he had. When she saw him reaching for another book, her hopes were quickly dashed.

"I recall from when I was a young boy my father spoke of a creature they called Miguel. It was a... research subject of sorts. They performed countless tests on the thing until it finally expired some time before I became a Watcher. He had told me that the thing was brain dead, felt no pain, and was of great use to the Council. Seeing what must have been the look of horror on my face, my father went on to assure me that while the creature was of an unspeakable evil nature, the Council had done nothing to cause the initial damage that left it in a vegetative state. While he never told me exactly what the creature was, he did tell me that it had come from across the pond sometime in the 18th century... and that it had been a part of a Spanish raid on one of the Colonies." A look of defeat passed over Willow's features before she responded.

"So, all those years, and he never recovered? That... that..."

"It doesn't leave us much room for hope, does it? Still, keep in mind that the council had no impetus to see the vampire healed, where as we have a great deal of motivation to see that Spike is restored. Perhaps with all of us searching, we'll find something that will work." While Giles' tried to be as hope inspiring as he could be, he feared that all their research was for nothing. Still, if only for Dawn, he would search out every possible means of restoring Spike to a functioning state.

"Yeah, maybe," Willow responded softly before burying herself back into her research on the worldwide web.

* * *

"Is it really you?" Spike stared at the apparition before him. All of his other senses told him that this was some sort of trick, and yet his heart told him that this really was Buffy. When she smiled at him, he had his answer. "How?"

"The Powers That Be owe me one." Her simple statement didn't do much to answer Spike's question.

"The who that what now?"

"The Powers are, like, some kind of supreme force for good, or something. The opposite of Wolfram and Hart. And they don't so much owe me a favour as they need you for something big and they thought that I might be able to lead you back." Spike stared at her as if he hadn't heard what she had said. He had, of course, but he was overwhelmed by seeing her again without having to worry about something else going wrong, such as the ordeal with the body swap a few weeks prior. And then Spike remembered that there were strings attached.

"I'm dead, aren't I." He stated a fact more than asked a question.

"More dead than usual, yeah." This elicited a small, quiet laugh from Spike as he nodded his agreement.

"Yeah, I suppose so. So, why aren't I down there with those poor sods?" Spike indicated the scene off to the far horizon, the scene that had first solidified the fact that he wasn't in the land of the living.

"Because you're different, Spike. You always have been. You're a good man." Spike's heart initially swelled, but soon he hung his head.

"You don't know all the things I've done, luv'. You can't imagine-"

"I don't have to imagine, Spike. I've seen them all." Spike looked up due to the morose tone she had switched to. "The Powers, they wanted me to be sure that you were someone they could count on, so they showed me... everything. I've seen everything." Here her voice changed and she spoke with a smile. "I've also seen how you're different. The way you turned your mother, hoping to give her the same gift you had received. The love you showered upon Drusilla. And of course I've seen the loyalty you've shown to me. No other vampire in history has ever been like you. That makes you special." Buffy reached out and placed a hand on Spike's cheek. "Monster's don't leave anonymous flowers for grieving daughters." The surprise was evident on Spike's face.

"How did you-"

"I did say _everything_, Spike. The most important thing of all, the thing that sets you apart , especially to me, is that you traded your life for Dawn's. It set up this chance for you to live again." Buffy got quieter, speaking in a tender, intimate voice. "And I can't begin to explain how much that sacrifice means to me."

Through it all Spike said nothing, relishing the contact with Buffy and the comfort it brought him. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. He reached up and placed his hand on hers, holding it there a moment before gently moving it away.

"If all that's true luv', then why am I here at all? And where exactly is _here_ anyway?"

"This is Hamistagan. It's a place where someone who performed both good and evil deeds go. As you can see, you're much closer to the evil spectrum, but apparently fighting to stave off an apocalypse and performing a selfless sacrifice is enough to keep you just this side of hell."

"So, this place is like a purgatory?"

"Close enough."

"Right." Spike seemed to contemplate his situation a few seconds before looking back up at Buffy with a sparkle in his eyes. "So, how do I get outta' here, pet?" The smile left Buffy's face as she pointed back towards the hell on the horizon.

"You've got to go through there." Spike stared at her a moment, rethinking whether or not he was sure this was really Buffy. Asking to go through a literal hell isn't how you reward someone who saved your sister's life. "I need you back in Sunnydale, Spike. Something terrible is coming." The fear on her face was enough to once again wash away Spike's doubt about her identity. Still, he was left with one question.

"If I'm dead, then how am I supposed to get back to bein' a real boy?"

"Being a vampire puts you in a very unique position," Buffy explained. "Your body has been dead since you were turned. Now your mind has joined it in death but your body still exists back on Earth. If we can get your mind out of here you'll still have a body to return to. But the Powers need to be sure that you _are_ the person that I know you are, the one that they need. And to convince them that you're him, well... you've got to go through hell." Spike seemed to mull this over for a brief period of time. Then, he squeezed Buffy's hand before leaping down off of his vantage point and raced towards the horrors he could see off in the distance.

Buffy sighed and rolled her eyes before she hopped down herself and chased after him.

* * *

Angel walked into the lobby area of the Hyperion Hotel well after the sun had crested in the sky. He had been forced to use the sewers to return to the hotel due to how late it had gotten. As he walked in he found both Cordelia and Wesley eating doughnuts.

"Gunn still out sulking?" Wesley nodded while eating a jelly filled delight.

"He told me that he had to sort a few things out before he came back to work," Wesley replied after he had finished his pastry.

"And Fred?" A somewhat saddened look passed over Wesley's features before he answered Angel.

"Fred has walled herself back up in her room. After what happened at Caritas, she believes that this place every bit as monstrous as Pylea was." From the look that passed between Wes and Cordelia, Angel surmised that this was a paraphrase of words spoken by Fred earlier in the morning. Angel couldn't worry about that right then however, as he was on a mission.

"How was your meeting with Buffy?"

"Buffy is alive?" Cordelia had forgotten that Wesley didn't yet know what had transpired the night before.

"No," Angel replied frostily. "But she did give me a mission." He looked at both of the people standing across from him, his stalwart friends, and shuddered at what he had to ask. "I need your help doing something for Buffy but I don't think either of you are going to like it. I'm not going to force you to do anything, and I'll understand when you say no." Cordelia had been aware of the meeting but not the contents. She frowned and locked eyes with Wesley, who wore and equally concerned look on his face.

"Angel, what is it?" Angel sighed, scoffed and rolled his eyes before meeting Cordelia's questioning gaze.

"I need your help to resurrect Spike."

"Have you lost your mind?" Cordelia remembered the chaos Spike caused in Sunnydale, and more recently in L.A. "He had you tortured! Why would you want to bring that maniac back?"

"Wait, are we talking about William the Bloody?" At a terse nod from Angel, Wesley went on. "The same Spike that has killed more slayers than any other living demon? I agree with Cordelia, why on Earth would you want to unleash that horror back upon the world?"

"Because Buffy asked me to. She says... she says that 'he's changed'," Angel used finger-quotes, showing his disagreement with Buffy's assessment. "She says that he helps her friends back in Sunnydale in defending against the hellmouth."

"What precipitated his demise?" When Cordelia cocked her eyebrow and his question, Wesley put it in layman's terms. "How did he die?"

"She said that he killed a human who had put a gun to Dawn's head. Then his brain liquefied."

"And how exactly would that cause his brain to liquefy?"

"A couple of years ago, not long after he attacked us here," Angel added for Cordelia, "he was captured by some secret government organisation and he had some kind of impulse inhibitor put in his brain. Basically, any time he even tried to hurt a human, the chip would go off and send out electricity into his brain. If he fought through that and actually hurt someone, the amount of damage he suffered increased exponentially. So, if he killed someone..."

"The chip went kerblamo." Cordelia shook her head, not liking the mental image. "Ew."

"I assume he knew this about the chip?" Wesley looked to Angel for clarification.

"Spike was dense, but it would be hard for even him to miss electric pulses shooting through his brain."

"Then he knew what saving Dawn might do to him?"

"Yeah..." Angel wasn't certain he was comfortable with where Wesley's logic was taking him.

"And does this type of behaviour describe Spike as you knew him?"

"Self-destructive tendencies? Absolutely."

"No, I meant self-sacrificial actions. I know that he was a bit of a thrill seeker-"

"That's an understatement," Angel interrupted Wesley, who rebuked him mildly with a stare before continuing his own line of thought.

"—but risking himself when he had nothing to gain personally goes against what the files say about him."

"It's not entirely new," Angel revealed reluctantly, drawing both Cordelia and Wesley's attention. "Spike was always loyal to Drusilla. From what I heard, he fought off an entire mob in Prague just to reach her, knowing that they might have already killed her. Spike was always... different." Angel was lost in thought for a moment, wondering just how Spike might have turned out, had Angelus and Darla not been there to corrupt him.

"How are we supposed to bring a vampire back to life?" Cordelia's question cut through Angel's thoughts. "I don't think I'm willing to do what Wolfram & Hart did to bring back Darla."

"We won't have to. Spike's body is still intact," Angel said, clarifying the situation.

"How is that possible?"

"I don't know, Wes. Since his heart hasn't been pierced by a stake and since he hasn't been dumped in the sunlight or a firepit, I don't think mental injuries kill vampires like they would a human. We're fuelled by different physiology than a human; the brain doesn't need to be there to operate things."

"So, like, where is he? I mean, his consciousness." Cordelia waited expectantly before both Angel and Wesley responded simultaneously.

"Hell."

"How do you know?" Again, the men replied at exactly the same time, though this time their words were different.

"Makes sense," Angel said.

"Where else would he go," was Wesley's reply. Cordelia tilted her head to one side before nodding in agreement.

"So, why do the PTB want him back alive?"

"Buffy said that they needed him to help fight of an apocalypse and to... shine shoes?" Angel still didn't get that bit of the prophecy. Wesley looked at him a moment before he began to laugh. When Cordelia and Angel just stared at him, he explained what he found so funny.

"I'm sorry, for a moment I thought you said that the Powers needed him to Shanshu." Wesley continued to laugh after he finished his statement, which caused Angel to join him.

"Yeah, like they would need Spike to fight off the apocalypse... and to... Shanshu..." Angel sobered up immediately, running everything back over in his head. He came to a very unsatisfying conclusion. "They need Spike alive because he's vampire in the prophecy. The Shanshu is about him."


	3. Consequences: Act II

**A/N:** _So, so sorry about the delay folks. One thing after another managed to get in the way of getting this chapter out. I apologise for not having this out sooner. Many thanks go out to my beta, Orin Forever Crimson. Please R&R but, most importantly, enjoy!_

* * *

Both Wesley and Cordelia stared at Angel with their mouths agape. Angel grabbed the bell on the counter and threw it across the room. It emitted a strangled ping sound upon impact, drawing Wesley out of his shock.

"Angel, that can't be possible. Spike has no soul." Angel turned to Wesley and stared at him for a short time before speaking.

"Or maybe he's always had one."

* * *

Buffy finally caught up with Spike. He was standing within a rock's throw of the ultimate terror that might soon befall him. Neither of them spoke while their eyes took in the multitude of horrors going on before them.

"So," Spike said finally, breaking the silence, "I've got to go through that."

"Yep," Buffy replied apologetically.

"Do you know what I'll be facing?"

"Nope."

"You're quite a bit o' help, you know that?" Spike's teasing voice took any edge off the words he spoke. Buffy turned to him and pulled him into a tight hug.

"I have faith in you." She pushed his shoulders back before locking his eyes into hers. "I'll be with you the whole time, but I won't be able to help you through this. You'll be fighting on your own." Spike held her gaze while he replied.

"As long as you're beside me, pet, I won't be alone. You're worth fightin' through anythin'." Buffy smiled briefly before she dropped her gaze and frowned. She seemed to be building up the courage to say what would come out of her mouth next.

"Spike... don't do this if you think it will make me love you. I can't be the reason you're going back." The life seemed to drain out of Spike as he turned to regard the plethora of pain that he would have to face. "I do love you Spike," Buffy began again and reached out to hold his face in her hands, "but I'm not _in love_ with you. I love you like I do Xander and Willow. You've proven yourself a trusted friend time and again, but to me you'll never be more than that." Buffy held his face with her hand, praying that he would understand.

Spike let her hold his face a moment longer before backing out of her reach and turning back to face the yawning mouth that was the opening to hells he couldn't even imagine. Seeing his fill, he closed his eyes and began to think, letting his face show no emotion. Buffy searched that blank face, trying to determine whether or not he would live up to her expectations of him.

"And if I say no?" His words broke her heart. She hung her head in defeat.

"You'll be free to roam this plane forever," Buffy began to relay the things the Powers had told her in the event that Spike chose not to aid their cause. "You'll never be able to reach the other side, the side of bliss, but you can escape the pull of hell for as long as you like." She tried to keep her anger and hurt out of her voice, but she just couldn't. Buffy had never been good at keeping her emotions in check."

"So, my choices are stay here in this desolate, but ultimately peaceful, place," Spike indicated the wastelands behind them with a wave of his arm, then he went silent. He turned back to face the horrors of hell before speaking again. "Or, I can suffer through hell, all for a ghost who will never return my feelings and for a group of sods who don't particularly like or trust me."

"That's not true!" Buffy moved forward and grabbed his shoulder. "Everyone there likes you." Spike turned his sardonic glare on Buffy, forcing her to change her statement. "Everyone but Xander likes you. They all-"

"Mark my words, pet," Spike interrupted her, "they'll all turn on me in the end." The sorrow in his voice was overpowering. "Everything is rainbows n' kittens now, but somethin' will come up, an' they'll all blame Spike. 'Spike is a soulless demon' they'll say, or 'he's a monster' or some such bugaboo. But in the end, they'll turn on me." Buffy wanted to argue with him, wanted desperately to prove to him that he was wrong, but she knew that nothing she could say would change his mind.

"No friendships last forever," she said at last, drawing an irony filled smile from Spike.

"No, I don't suppose they do." He reflected upon his time with Drusilla, at one point arguing with Angelus that 'Dru and I are forever'. They might have been together longer than most vampire couples ever recorded, but forever they were not. Spike again studied the torment awaiting him and turned back to Buffy. "And they are hardly ever worth _that_." He nodded toward the chasm opening.

"Then I guess you have to figure out if we're worth it, Spike." The way that she said it made Spike think she already knew what his choice would be. He snorted loudly and met Buffy's eyes.

"I've suffered enough." His words caused Buffy's eyes to well as she turned away, defeated. She took a few steps before she heard Spike yell out behind her. She whipped her head around to see Spike charging towards the first layer of his own personal hell. And then she smiled and let the tears fall.

* * *

Tara and Dawn walked past a sign indicating they were in front of _Fat Tony's Place_. They had parked the car and had walked up and down the sidewalks of the Sunnydale Food Corridor, passing various food vendors and restaurants along the way.

"What about Italian?" Tara had repeated this same question for every type of food establishment they had passed over the last twenty minutes. And, as every time before, Dawn had simply shrugged her shoulders. Tara had finally had enough. "What's wrong, Dawn? If you don't tell me, Willow and Giles may well starve." Her words caused a smile to cross Dawn's face. Dawn looked over at Tara as they walked past _Fat Tony's_.

"I'm worried about Spike."

"I know sweetie. We all are."

"What if he never... I just can't lose anyone else." Dawn was on the verge of tears. Tara wrapped her in a tight embrace and spoke softly to her.

"We are not l-losing Spike. Okay? We won't let that happen." Dawn sniffled and nodded, stifling her tears. "But if we're going to find a way to help him, we can't be fighting on an empty stomach." Dawn laughed this time. She thought that it might as well be Xander walking beside her with all the talk of food going on.

"Let's do Asian," Dawn decided at last. Tara gave her a horrified look, drawing even more giggles out of Dawn, before she laughed herself and led the way back towards the last Asian food place they had passed.

"Come on, Hallie, help me out here!" Anya was pleading with her best friend and ex-co-worker, the Vengeance demon Halfrek. They were seated at the bar area of 'Foam me to You', a local coffee and espresso shop. Xander sat off to the side, not really wanting to be sitting with a demon but also not wanting to show his distress at the idea. He knew that Halfrek wasn't so bad, as demons went, and that she was likely going to be one of Anya's maids of honour at their wedding, but he simply didn't like demons.

"Anyanka," Hallie began, using Anya's full name, "I don't know what you want me to say. You know just as much about the higher planes as I do, if not more. We both know that you spent more time with D'Hoffryn than I did." Despite the words, there was no malice in the tone. Both women knew that it was true and had come to terms with it long ago.

"That may be true, but I don't have the access I once did. I can't go hopping from dimension to dimension looking for Spike."

"And whose fault is that?" Halfrek's voice was teasing, trying to get a rise out of Anya. Apparently, it worked.

"That's not the point, Hallie!" Anya was quickly getting agitated, as she often did with her old friend lately. Halfrek couldn't understand her decision to stay human and Anya could never find the right words to explain it. Still, Hallie had stuck by her, and that was what friendship was all about.

"No need to get huffy, dear; I'll see what I can do. Now, who am I looking for again?" Anya's eyes lit up at her friend's agreement to help and she quickly hugged her. Xander, watching the whole thing despite desperately wishing he was elsewhere, was taken aback by Anya's display. It wasn't so much that he thought her incapable; their mounting time together had shown him otherwise frequently. What he didn't understand was her fondness for Spike. He didn't have the answer, but he resolved to find it later.

"His name is Spike, but he occasionally goes by William the Bloody." Anya's words had a strange effect on Hallie, who blinked rapidly in thought. "What's wrong, Hallie? Do you know him?"

"I don't know," Halfrek responded honestly. "I can't say that I've ever heard of a 'Spike', but William the Bloody sounds familiar..." She trailed off in thought.

"He went by William the Bloody for awhile before changing it later to Spike," Anya provided what she knew about Spike's past. "He came from England a century or two ago. Come to think of it," Anya continued thoughtfully, "weren't you active in England several times during the 1800's?"

"Yes, I was." Halfrek still appeared lost in thought. "I can't shake the feeling that I should know this man, but the Willie I knew wasn't a vampire." Hallie shrugged her shoulders before drinking deep of her latte. "Like I said, I'll see what I can dig up. Give me a day and I'll get back to you. But you owe me now." She said it with a stern voice, but they both broke out into giggles. Xander could only guess that it was an inside joke, something only old friends were privy to. Then, with a flash of light, Halfrek was gone. Anya was still laughing quietly while Xander scooted closer to her.

"So, she's going to be one of your maids of honour?" Xander needed to confirm what Anya had told him previously. He must have allowed some distaste creep unknowingly into his voice because the look Anya gave him would have withered flowers.

"No, Xander, she is _the_ Maid of Honour. She's been my friend for centuries and has been there for me through everything." Anya paused, gathering her breath for the onslaught that Xander was sure would come next. He suddenly wished that the Foam served alcohol. "Dawn and Tara are my two bridesmaids. I know that Willow is you Best Man, but you're going to need to groomsmen to go with my bridesmaids. Do you even have to male friends?"

"Of course I do," Xander responded with shocked anger. When Anya continued to stare at him, Xander began to list them off, holding up his fingers for each name. "There's... uh... Giles! And, uh... Oz! And then there's... " Xander looked down at his two fingers, then at Anya, expecting a victory smirk to be on her face. Instead, he saw concern.

"Xander, we need to get you more man friends. What about your co-workers?" Xander thought about it for a minute before writing that idea off.

"No, those guys are alright, but I don't think that I can hang out with anyone who isn't in our line of work."

"They're your co-workers, Xander. They are, by definition, in your line of work." It was Xander's turn to glare at Anya until she understood what it was that Xander had been implying. "Oh, the monster hunting. Right."

"Most people that I meet tend to run away in terror when they face what we deal with on a normal day. I guess that's what makes them normal."

"No, Xander," Anya responded huskily, "that's what makes you extraordinary." While Xander couldn't help but notice the uncharacteristic insight Anya had just displayed, Xander also recognised the sound of lust in Anya's voice for what it was and promptly flagged their waiter.

"Check please!"

* * *

"How on earth could Spike have a soul?" Wesley voiced the question for both he and Cordelia.

"Spike was different than other vampires at first, until Darla and I... changed him." Angel began taking a long walk down memory lane, recalling things that he would much rather forget. "Spike's first action after he was sired was to seek out his mother and turn her."

"Vampiric dealings with the victim's family are frequent amongst the recently turned," Wesley pointed out. "The most common of which ends in wholesale slaughter. The demon that is the vampire delights in destroying the things its mortal forbearer held dear. Sometimes, this is better accomplished by turning the family members."

"Yeah, but Spike didn't do it because he wanted to kill his mom," Angel explained. "He did it because his mother was dying from tuberculosis and he wanted to share with her what he thought of as 'the gift of vampirism'." Angel let that sink in for a minute before continuing. "When the demon his mother became accused him of siring her for sexual reasons, Spike put a stake through her heart because he couldn't bear to see the monster in his mother's form."

"Wait, his mother came on to him? That's just... eww." Cordelia made loud gagging noises while she came out from behind the counter and took a seat in the Hyperion's lobby.

"You're suggesting that Spike sired his mother because he genuinely cared for her well being?" Wesley was having a hard time wrapping his head around this information; it went against everything that his Watcher's training had told him. "That's just... human."

"Don't get me wrong, the demon was there too," Angel clarified. "Spike had dreams of rampaging over England with his mother and Dru, feeding to their hearts' content." Angel paused to gather his memories to him, to dust them off as it were, before he continued. "But he wasn't the monster he would become until Darla and I made him that way. Twenty years is a long time to change someone." Angel had several more instances he could relay, but he honestly didn't want to dwell any more on the subject than he had to. From the way Cordelia and Wesley were looking at him, he had made his point well enough already.

"But, what about after that? You've had a soul for a hundred years? He's been killing people that whole time," Cordelia pointed out.

"Sure, but he was with Drusilla then. Since he and Dru went their separate ways, Buffy tells me that he's changed dramatically. The way she talked, it sounded almost as if he'd gone back to the way he was before he met me and Darla."

"Oh," Cordelia responded simply, out of any further ideas.

"So, I suppose the question becomes; what if the prophecy_ is_ about Spike?" Wesley's question hung in the air, unanswered.

* * *

Time in the outside world had no bearing on the realm that Buffy and Spike inhabited. While she couldn't exactly see what was happening with her friends on earth, she knew that things hadn't progressed as far as she had hoped. And while the timing in the corporeal world that both Spike and Buffy had left behind didn't need to be exact, it couldn't be too far off.

Buffy worried her lower lip as Spike endured the latest torture that their current realm had in store for him. Currently, Spike was surrounded by the 'ghosts' of all his innocent victims as they re-enacted their final moments. The commentary the spirits provided during each scene was, Buffy found, particularly unnerving.

Buffy knew that they weren't the actual spirits of the people Spike had wronged in his sordid past, but Spike seemed none the wiser. The only thing that still had Buffy convinced that Spike was reformed, that he was no longer the monster capable of such atrocities as the ones being levied against him then, was the look of pure sorrow on his face.

And for his part, Spike genuinely was repentant for most of his past crimes. Surely, several of them he would commit again if given the chance, but nothing like the mutilations staring him in the face. As they presented their lamentations to him, their voices rang hollow even if their protestations didn't. Spike knew that these couldn't be the actual spirits of his former victims. If they were, then the gods were every bit as cruel as they accused him of being. What gods of good would force people to relive their deaths? Still, even with the hope that these shades were no victims of his, their performance had the desired effect.

Spike had sat through this for what seemed like days. Maybe it had been days, Spike surmised stoically. He was tired of seeing his past wrongs flash before his eyes. He was guilty, he knew, and could offer no defence. _Would_ offer no defence, Spike realised suddenly. How could he? And yet, the point had been made long ago. With a surge of effort, Spike pulled free of the chair that he had allowed himself to be strapped to for the _Trial of the Innocent_, as this particular leg of the journey had been called.

"Enough!" Spike's shout filled the room, chasing the spirits away and startling Buffy enough to cause her to jump. As the ghosts filed out of the room, the robed man entered the room.

As best Spike could tell, the robed man was a sort of jailer and judge, with a nice heap of tormentor all rolled in to one. He was one of several that Spike had seen along the way. Spike supposed that every one of the tormented in this plane had their own robed man assigned to them. Some of them had appeared to take pleasure in their duties; the one before them now did not.

The robed man walked up to Spike, measuring the vampire with an unrelenting gaze.

"You have given up, vampire?" There wasn't much surprise behind the words, almost as if the robed man had assumed failure was the only possible outcome. Spike fought back a growl.

"No," Spike said at last, "but I think this charade has gone on long enough, mate. You and I both know that these spectres are all smoke an' mirrors. They're no more innocent victims than I am." Buffy's jaw dropped at Spike's statement but the robed man nodded sagely.

"And you don't think of yourself as an innocent victim?" The robed man's words had Spike reflecting upon his past in a different light. In the end, Spike shook his head.

"Maybe once upon a time," he conceded after some time, "but that time has long past. All of this is somethin' I deserve, somthin' I've earned." The robed man nodded his head again and Spike fancied that he saw the ghost of a smile cross his lips before he turned away and motioned for the vampire to follow him. Spike turned to Buffy, who smiled in earnest, before they followed the man down the hallway.

Spike limped a little as they walked, a testament to the earlier trials he had faced. The _Trial of Torment_ had been particularly painful, and it had been the first Spike encountered as he entered this end of the realm. Through it all, Buffy had been there, watching him. She hadn't said much at all during their time, and Spike suspected that was because she _couldn't_, not that she _wouldn't_. She talked to him in between the trials, as she did now.

"Just a few more trials, Spike, and then you'll be home free." Her face was bright and her voice enthusiastic. Spike just grunted and trudged on. He knew what he was doing was right, but that didn't make it hurt any less. It just gave him a reason to go on. And even with Buffy standing right beside him, Spike found his thoughts wandering to Dawn. He wanted nothing more than to get back to Sunnydale and resume his protection of her. To his surprise, he found that he didn't just want to do this to keep his word to Buffy, but because it was something he honestly desired. Spike didn't have much time to dwell on this new thought, as the robed man stopped upon entering a new chamber.

"This is the penultimate trial, vampire. Before you stands the _Trial of Righteous Causes._" Spike snorted and looked about, hands on his hips. As he turned back to the robed man, a fist caught his jaw and sent him flying across the chamber. Weakened as he was, Spike was slow getting up. To his surprise, his attacker had not advanced while he was downed.

"Bloody hell," Spike cursed loudly as he sized up his opponent. The figure of a man stood before him. A man with golden armour and wings. "Oh, bollocks. An angel? Is this some kinda' joke?" Spike directed his query at the robed man.

"This is no joke, vampire. Before you is a true celestial being, a servant of the Powers. He helps keep balance in the Otherrealm. The fate of thousands depends upon his survival. And now, he must fight you." The robed man let that set in before continuing. "Only one of you can leave this chamber. The man with the greater cause shall prevail." The robed man then disappeared, just as he had done during the previous trials.

The angel took measured Spike up before nodding quickly and assuming an attack posture. Spike sighed wearily to himself.

"Always wanted to kill an Angel. Guess you'll have to do, Wings." With that, Spike charged the waiting celestial.


	4. Consequences: Act III

**A/N:** _A thousand thanks to my beta, OrinForeverCrimson. She really kept this Act in check! Alright, I apologise about the delay again (I'm starting to sound like a broken record, I'm sure). I can honestly tell you now not to expect a further update until late May. With finals coming up and with me having several trips to take in the near future, my free time is very booked. All that said, please R&R, but most importantly, enjoy!_

* * *

Spike realised early on that he was at a severe disadvantage against the angel. Beyond the fact that Spike had not been able to rest between the previous trials he had surmounted, the angel wore a sheathed sword on his belt. What's more, the celestial was wearing full bodied armour. Spike knew that he had to land every punch on his target's head or it would likely do more damage to his hands than to the angel. Either that or find some way to remove the armour.

Spike was still reeling from the sucker punch that the angel had landed to start the fight. Thankfully, he had landed a devastating punch of his own to give himself some time to think and regroup. He had charged the angel but had turned his rush into a roll at the last second and had come up behind the surprised angel and, before it had any time to react, Spike delivered a hard right into the winged creature's temple. The angel had staggered forward and now rested with one hand on a cave wall and the other on his hip, near his sword hilt. Spike's posture mimicked the angel's, as he too needed to regain his wits. Then, both recovered, they charged back into combat.

Spike led with a quick left that the angel dodged easily. The angel responded with a leg sweep. Spike leapt over the outstretched leg but did not account for the celestial's wings following his leg. The wings were surprisingly solid and delivered a heavy blow, sending Spike soaring left. The angel reacted quickly, moving to pounce on his downed foe. Spike reacted just as quickly, using the momentum of the blow to his advantage.

He used his hands to propel himself further away from his oncoming enemy while keeping his momentum fluid. As the angel kept coming, Spike kept tumbling away. When he neared the cavern wall, Spike shifted his angle and sailed towards it. At the end of his manoeuvre, Spike planted his feet firmly on the rockface and kicked off with all his might. The shocked angel had no time to adjust as Spike's fists connected solidly with his face. Spike rode the angel down, raining a series of unending blows upon his face before the angel was able to roll over and cover its head.

With the angel's back to him, Spike began to search for a clasp or seam in his foe's golden armour, but the wings made it hard to see anything as the angel flitted them about for additional protection. As Spike continued to search, he unintentionally let up on the punches he was landing. Sensing the vampire's distraction, the angel pushed up and beat his wings furiously, dislodging Spike with little effort. As the angel stood and turned to stare at his assailant, Spike was taken aback to see how little damage his blows had caused. The angel's nose was leaking blood and one of his eyes was starting to swell, but Spike expected to see so much more punishment reflected on that face.

"Bollocks," Spike muttered before stepping towards the angel to once again exchange blows.

* * *

Angel sat in his desk chair, fingers steepled before him. He was lost in thought, still dwelling upon his time and actions with Spike, so much so that he didn't notice Wesley standing in his office doorway until the latter cleared his throat. Angel started in his chair and nearly fell out of it backwards. He recovered nicely though, managing to keep both himself and the chair upright. For his part, Wesley did well to hold back the chuckle he felt the situation deserved. The former Watcher settled instead for a smile.

"I didn't mean to startle you," Wesley said, smile still firmly on his face, "but I believe I found something."

"You didn't startle me," Angel muttered under his breath, just loudly enough for Wesley to hear him, before standing up and walking towards his friend. "What did you find?"

"Of course, we had already determined that you and Spike were the beings implied by the riddle the Powers gave Buffy." Wesley continued talking as he and Angel walked through the foyer of the Hyperion Hotel, heading towards the counter where Wesley had several books strewn about the surface. Cordelia lay curled up sleeping on the lobby sofa, a number of books open around her as well. "And we were fairly certain that the 'font of life' was in some way related to blood. But I think I know exactly what type of blood it refers to now. An apocryphal section of the Tanakh refers to Qayin and Havel, that is, Cain and Abel, and that Cain was the first vampire."

"Yeah, but we know better than that," Angel replied with a scoff. "Vampires pre-date humanity."

"Indeed, and I find little validity in _any _creation myth," Wesley added, "but this particular text refers to the font of life as the blood of God." Angel stared at Wesley incredulously for a moment.

"So, we need to find a god and feed it to Spike?" Angel shook his head, disgusted at what he believed Wesley was implying. "I'm not sure I'm okay with this Wes. Hell, I'm not sure where to even _find_ a god, let alone if we can defeat one."

"Another interpretation of the font of life metaphor is that it doesn't refer to the blood of God, but rather the blood of either one of your parents' father. In both Cain and Abel's case, this _would be _God, in a manner of speaking, but their case is unique, as God gave birth to Adam and Eve, who in turn gave birth to Cain and Abel. In reality, the term really refers to one's grandfather."

"Give that to me in English, Wes."

"It means that _you_ need to bleed for Spike, dummy," Cordelia called out sleepily from the sofa. Both men turned to regard her, Wesley with a smile on his face, Angel with a frown. "What? Jealous that I can understand techno-mystical babble and you can't?" Cordelia's question was obviously directed at Angel, whose frown deepened before turning to confront Wesley.

"Why the grandfather, and not the great-grandfather or the distant uncle or the mother's aunt? Why this _exact_ familial bond?"

"Angel," Wes said with some amusement in his voice, "it's just a metaphor. It refers to the grandfather because the first instance of the term could only _go_ back two generations. As with many interpretations, this one is subject to debate. The 'font of life' the Powers spoke of could easily be something far more esoteric, but I think this _is_ what they're talking about. You need to let Spike feed off of you."

Angel didn't respond. He questioned whether he was willing to give his lifeblood to a creature he despised, all so that Spike could claim the destiny that he himself had been fighting hard to achieve for years. In the end, Angel realised that if he was fighting the good fight, protecting the innocent, solely because it would benefit himself then he didn't deserve the reward that the Sanshu promised.

When Angel looked up at last, he noticed that both Cordelia and Wesley were staring at him expectantly.

"Get whatever we need; we're going to Sunnydale.

* * *

It was dark outside the Summers' house and empty Chinese food boxes were left out on the table to sit aside the numerous tomes that lay open there. Giles, Dawn, Willow and Tara all sat sullenly in the living room. Dawn was once again by Spike's side, a sight that had become all too familiar to the other occupants of the room. While no one had come out and said it, finding a cure for Spike's condition seemed more impossible with each passing hour. None of the Scoobies could find anything useful in any of their various areas of research. Giles was thinking of ways to break the news to Dawn as gently as possible when the sound of the doorbell cut through his thoughts.

Giles got up and walked to the door, expecting to see Xander or Anya standing in front of it. He was shocked when he saw that it wasn't either of the newly-weds but instead saw Cordelia Chase, Wesley Windam-Pryce, and Angel standing on the stoop. Giles was so surprised that he fumbled with the door awkwardly before finally managing to get it open.

"Miss Chase, Wesley, Angel," Giles intoned quizzically, nodding at each of them in turn, "what brings you to Sunnydale?" The girls in the living room didn't miss the names that Giles had spoken, and suddenly the doorway was crowded with people exchanging greetings and hugs. The members of Angel Investigations, especially Cordelia and Angel, were briefly reminded of just what they had given up when they left Sunnydale.

After the general greetings and camaraderie had been had, Giles once again returned to his original question.

"Not that I'm not grateful to see any of you, but what brings you all back to Sunnydale? Please tell me that you haven't discovered some new horror headed our way."

"We're here to help... Spike," Angel said after a pause. It was clear to all the adults in the room that Angel wasn't exactly thrilled about the prospect. Dawn, however, was elated that someone had offered some new hope on their hopeless situation. Before Dawn could voice it though, Tara had a question of her own.

"Wait, how did you hear about Spike's condition?" She looked questioningly to the other Sunnydale residents, seeing if anyone had contacted Angel's team. When she was met with confused looks matching her own, she turned back to Angel expectantly.

"Buffy came to me," Angel said, causing everyone who hadn't already heard the story to start questioning him all at once. "The Powers sent her to me to plead on behalf of Spike," Angel clarified, speaking loudly enough to cut through the ongoing questions. When silence ruled the room, he spoke again. "Spike needs me. He needs my blood."

* * *

"Tell me, creature," the angel called out to Spike after both had reached a mutual need for recuperation, "what manner of demon are you? I've never fought anything of your kind before. You look human, but your strength is formidable." Spike looked him over from across the cave before responding.

"I'm a vampire, mate. Didn't you hear Friar Tuck say as much after you blind-sided me?" It took the angel a moment to realise that Spike was refering to the Robed Man.

"Indeed I did, but I had always heard that vampires were the weaklings of demon society, never warranting any of my divine brothers' attention. Your strength and agility are far beyond anything I've been led to believe about your ilk." The angel's eyes flashed an unearthly blue as he spoke. Spike recognised the hue, and its importance, immediately.

"You've got a bit o' god blood in you, yeah?" The celestial appeared perplexed by Spike's question.

"I am infused with the blood of my Creator, yes. Tell me, bloodsucker; how does one such as you come by information of that kind?"

"Seen the colour that's shinin' in your eyes before, mate," Spike said simply. The angel nodded sombrely, mulling over the information.

"The Ogdoad said that you fight for a noble cause. What could possibly drive a demon to willingly endure the torments of this place?" Spike didn't recognise the name the angel spoke. He quickly surmised that the name in question was the true name that the robed men went by. That piece of information under his belt, Spike began to think over his adversary's question.

Why _was_ he going through this? What was he fighting for? Spike looked over at Buffy and knew immediately that he wasn't going through all of this for her. The realisation struck Spike as odd; he would've walked through Hell for Buffy if she only asked, but she wasn't asking him. Not really. Buffy had told him specifically that she could _not_ be his reason for fighting. And she wasn't, Spike suddenly realised. He was fighting to get back to the real world, to get home.

_Home_. A word Spike hadn't truly associated with any place since he was a human, and now no word seemed more fitting for the Summers' home in Sunnydale. A smile crept onto Spike's face, as he knew why he was fighting now.

"The best cause in the world, Wings. I'm fightin' to get home." The angel nodded his understanding.

"As do I, vampire, as do I." When the two combatants locked eyes again, they understood each other. However, each also knew that the bonding experience was over and that the fight was about to begin anew. Spike sighed wearily. He knew that as the fight wore on, he was receiving the worse end of the damage. If he was going to win this fight, he would have do so in the very near future. He only wished that his opponent wasn't nearly as skilled as he was. It made winning the fight a difficult prospect, and whatever slim hope Spike had depended on the angel not drawing his sword. Spike fervently hoped that the angel would hold on the foolish notion that most goody-good types seemed to have; the concept of a fair fight.

They charged back towards one another, each understanding what drove the other fighter and better understanding what drove themselves. Spike led with a right heel-kick, causing the angel to block low. Spike hoped to follow up with a left cross but the angel acted first by throwing a punch of his own, a right uppercut. Spike dodged to his right and landed a left knee into the angel's midsection. The blow caused a loud clang to echo throughout the cave, causing the silently watching Buffy to wince.

"Bloody hell," Spike cried out as he hopped away from his foe. His only saving grace was that he had managed to knock the wind out of his opponent. The angel was down on one knee, which Spike found rather ironic considering how badly his own knee was now hurting him. Spike cradled his fresh injury as best he could, knowing that he was missing a valuable opportunity to strike but he was simply unable to capitalise on it. When the angel finally stood, Spike was slightly satisfied to see a small dent in the celestial's gilded chestplate, but it seemed like such a small victory. It fully confirmed that the longer the fight wore on, the more of an issue the armour would become.

The angel advanced with a determined look on his face. Spike planted his left leg down, grimacing as his weight was placed upon it. '_One more disadvantage I didn't need_,' Spike thought to himself, as the warriors once again walked towards one another, ready for another round.

* * *

"Buffy told you that Spike needs your blood to recuperate?" Giles was the first to speak after Angel's announcement.

"More or less," Angel grumbled out. Giles could tell that Angel wasn't keen on the idea. Giles understood completely, as there was a time, not too long ago, that he wouldn't have been very up on the idea himself. Then again, Giles still was not completely in Angel's corner, and it surprised him that he _did_ stand fully behind Spike. The former Watcher was amazed at just how much times really had changed.

"So," Dawn began, renewed hope in her eyes, "you're going to make Spike better?" As she spoke, Dawn moved to retake her seat beside Spike's unmoving body. Angel saw how concerned the young girl was, and he too understood just how much things had changed in his absence. He looked at the way she mothered over him, and knew that it was more than simple friendship that motivated her. He suddenly wanted to scream out at her, tell her that loving a vampire would only end in pain, but he held his tongue. It was Dawn's mistake to make, and he knew he had given up the right to council her in those types of affairs when he had left for Los Angeles more than two years ago.

"You really care about him, don't you?" Angel said at last.

"He... he said he would never leave me." That simple statement let Angel know that he was doing the right thing. He resolved himself, if not to _like_ what he was doing, then at least to go through with it without complaints.

"Wes, do we need to do anything special?" Angel threw his question over his shoulder, never letting his eyes leave the sight of Dawn hovering over Spike.

"Not that I'm aware of," Wesley replied with a shrug. "No ritual required." Angel shrugged in return and moved his wrist to his mouth to tear it open. As he bared his fangs and his intentions became clear, the living room was once again full of noise.

"Ewwwwwww," Willow and Cordelia said in unison, their gazes meeting as both turned their heads away from the perspective sight.

"Let me put s-something down, to prevent stains." Tara's voice carried behind her as she was already in motion, searching for plastic or towels or anything else that would absorb blood.

"Wouldn't you rather do that with a knife?" Giles wasn't squeamish about what was about to happen, but the thought of Angel tearing into his own flesh with his teeth seemed somehow inappropriate to him.

"Is that really necessary, Angel?" Wesley shared similar concerns to Giles. The sight Angel's actions would cause was not something suited for female company in his eyes. Not when it could be helped, that was.

Only Dawn seemed unaffected by what Angel had been about to do. She listened to the myriad of reactions with a confused look on her face. She simply wanted this to happen as quickly as possible in order to get Spike back.

Tara and Giles came back into the living room, the Brit handing Angel a knife and keeping a large bowl for himself while the Wiccan put several towels on the floor and on the couch. She even laid one across Spike's bare chest to keep the blood off of him, which gave Spike the comical look as if he were wearing a bib.

When all the commotion had finally stopped, Angel held the knife to his wrist while Giles held the bowl below it. Just as Angel was about to cut, Cordelia called out from behind them.

"Not yet!" Angel almost cut himself completely by accident and many of the rooms inhabitants jumped visibly at the outburst. When everyone glared at Cordelia, she looked back defiantly. "What? I just got a PTB flash that it wasn't time yet. They'll let me know when it is." A collective "oh" went around the room. Giles and Angel then looked at one another and moved to join everyone else in sitting down.

After a few minutes, the silence was not only uncomfortable, it was deafening.

"So," Angel began, a sheepish look on his face, turned from one Sunnydale resident to the next, "how is everyone?" Having thus broken the ice, the conversation flowed out smoothly. Everyone caught up with everyone else's lives. Cordelia couldn't wait to tell everyone how she had been queen of an entire dimension while Wesley told stories of his months as a Rogue Demon Hunter. Giles talked about his time in England and Willow and Tara talked about college and how they met. Even Angel and Dawn got in on the bonding, Angel talking about how he had built a team up in L.A. while Dawn talked about school and Spike.

They talked for hours, letting go of tensions that both groups had built up during recent weeks. When Xander and Anya arrived, it gave everyone more time to catch up, with certain stories being relayed again and Anya showing off her wedding ring. As the night wore on old animosities were forgotten or forgiven, sorrows were shared and lifted, and if only for a little while, everyone was happy.


	5. Consequences: Act IV

**A/N:** _A thousand thanks to my beta, OrinForeverCrimson! My apologies for this release being soooooo incredibly delayed. So, please read and review, but most importantly, enjoy!_

* * *

The fight had raged on for what must have been hours. To Buffy, it seemed as if the fight was all she could remember. It was a good thing that the former Slayer could no longer feel physical fatigue because she was feeling _mental_ fatigue badly enough. Watching her friend battle for this long, knowing that the odds were stacked against him, was emotionally draining. Buffy wanted so badly to jump in and help Spike against his angelic opponent, but she knew that not only would that be a violation of the rules that the Powers had laid out for her, but that such an action was physically impossible in their current location. While onlookers were allowed in the many Chambers of Trials, actually aiding the petitioner was expressly forbidden. Buffy couldn't even offer her moral support, as she was also unable to speak while the Trials were in progress.

Buffy watched on in silence as the fight picked up pace once again. Spike was limping pronouncedly due to the knee injury he suffered against the angel's armour earlier in the fight. He had done well to put that leg behind him for the majority of the battle since the injury occurred, minimizing the opportunities for the winged warrior facing him to take advantage of. Still, the celestial had landed a few blows to the leg and knee, and each one had caused severe pain to wrack the already battered vampire. Spike knew that he had to make a move soon if he wanted to finish the fight with a favourable outcome. Spike decided to lay a trap that he hoped his fellow fighter could not resist.

Spike closed the gap towards the angel as quickly as he could manage, keeping his left leg back as he neared his opponent. He threw a phantom punch with his right arm and sold it for all it was worth. The angel jerked to his left, easily avoiding the blow, however the celestial did not anticipate what would come next. Spike followed his fake punch with a devastating left hook, pivoting his torso without changing his stance or losing any momentum. The surprise blow land on the angel's ribs, directly on the seams of his armour. Spike knew immediately that most of the bones in his left hand were shattered. He also knew that the angel had at least two badly broken ribs and possibly several more cracked. It was _then_ that Spike set his trap.

Spike had propelled his last blow off of his damaged knee, which he now left in front of himself and unprotected. Spike cursed loudly and with gusto, cradling his mangled left hand in his right. Spike didn't have to sell his pain; that part was all too real. What he _did _need to do was make his leg look like a viable target that he had simply forgotten about due to his new agony. The angel, reeling from the almost debilitating pain in his side, saw the leg and Spike's distraction and, hoping to finally finish the fight, took the bait.

The angel launched everything he had at Spike's front leg with a vicious sweep kick. Spike reacted instantly, leaping off the ground with his good leg before bringing his damaged left leg down on the surprised and vulnerable wings of the angel. His leg collided with a resounding crack, splintering both of the angel's left side wings while also snapping Spike's knee in the process. Both warriors screamed in agony as fresh pain ripped through them in waves. Spike's knee was damaged beyond repair now. He thought that he would not be standing again anytime soon, but the vampire knew that he had suffered worse before. Very little could compare to the torture that Glory had put him through earlier in the year. For the angel, however, this was the worst sort of hell that he could imagine. Never before had he been so injured. The celestial had been wounded before, almost fatally, but never had his wings been targeted. He writhed on the ground, fighting to stay conscious. Spike looked over, saw that the angel was still awake, and knew that he had to change that.

Spike used his right leg and arm to crawl over to the nearest cave wall, then began to claw his way to a standing position. When he was standing on one leg, Spike looked back towards his foe and almost fell over in shock. The angel had found a way to stand. He was battered and severely injured, but he could still fight. When his eyes met Spike's, they both knew that the fight would indeed be over soon.

The angel lurched awkwardly towards Spike, his balance being off in ways that he never thought possible. Spike walked with one leg by dragging his left leg behind him. Spike wanted to scream with every step that he took, but he refused to give in to the pain. Both opponents formulated new stratagems based upon their uniquely debilitated conditions, and both knew that this would be the last shot at survival. The men came together in a devastating collision.

Spike once again launched himself off of his right leg, but this time threw a scissor kick while at the same time pivoting his torso and throwing a tremendous left hook. For his part, the angel had predicted something similar and threw all his weight behind a double fisted hammer blow, using his good wings to provide added momentum.

Spike's kick shattered the angel's right set of wings, while his punch shattered the winged warrior's jaw. However, the celestial had timed his blow just right, putting of his remaining strength into the attack. The hammer blow caught Spike directly in the chest and sent him hurdling into the cave wall behind him. Spike hit the rock with spine breaking force, his neck snapped back, slamming his head into the wall as well. The sound was so sickening that had Buffy been corporeal, she would have thrown up from sadness and shock. As it was, she sank to her knees and hung her head in grief as Spike crumpled lifelessly to the floor.

* * *

The night had moved quickly for the both the Scooby and the A.I. camps, distracted as they were by all the catching up. It was well into the wee hours of the morning when a single noise silenced all conversation in the room. A strangled shout of anguish burst forth from Spike's lips, drawing all eyes to him. It was immediately apparent that Spike's physical condition, which had been healing faster than the normal rate for a vampire, was now several factors worse than when Giles and Xander had dragged him from the ruined basement of Warren Mears' home. His chest was a literal mass of fresh bruises and welts and the pillow underneath his head was dark with blood.

There was a flurry of simultaneous activity as everyone crowed around Spike. They all began to talk and shout and even cry all at once, making a fairly incoherent cacophony throughout the room. Just as soon as the commotion began, Cordelia was greeted with another vision from the Powers That Be. She was shown images of the fight between Spike and his angelic opponent as well as that of Buffy crying silently once the fight had stopped. Then she was given a mental image of Dawn. Cordelia didn't quite understand that part, because Dawn was in the room with her and not in whatever realm Spike and Buffy were in. As if sensing her confusion, the Powers sent an additional image of Dawn holding on tightly to Spike, speaking words that Cordelia could not understand before they both were surrounded by a softly glowing pink light.

Cordelia slumped as the vision faded, only to be caught by the perceptive Angel before she could hit the floor.

"Another vision?" Angel asked, already knowing the answer. Cordelia only nodded in response before standing back up and putting her mental faculties back together. Satisfied that she was fine, she walked over to the frantic Dawn.

"Dawn, honey, it's going to be okay," Cordelia said soothingly as she pulled Dawn to the side.

"It-it is?" Dawn's eyes were red and her face was wet and she sniffled as she spoke. Everyone had their eyes trained on Cordelia and Dawn as the former Sunnydale diva explained what the last Summers had to do.

"You need to reach inside yourself, Dawn, and tap your potential." Dawn, who had not had a full night's rest in several days, was perhaps the most confused she had ever been in her life.

"What... what do you mean?"

"You're the Key, Dawn, and there's a door that you need to open."

* * *

After what seemed like a lifetime, there was a noise from across the cavern. Buffy looked up hopefully through bleary eyes, only to see that it was not Spike but rather the angel who stirred at last. Buffy briefly recalled that the angel had also fallen to the ground in a heap, unconscious from the damage that Spike had inflicted. Now, the angel groaned in pain for several long minutes before finally coming to his senses.

"Ogdoad," the angel rasped out weakly. His jaw hung at an awkward angle, causing the words to be even more slurred. Not long after the angel had spoken, the robed figure that had guided Spike through his trials appeared. The angel's face was such a mess that his eyes were swollen to the point that the robed man had to stand there for several minutes before the angel realised that his call had been answered.

"I have won. Send me back home." The angel struggled with each word, doing his best to pronounce them in spite of the pain each syllable brought him.

"I can not, Mikhail; you have _not_ won." As Buffy watched, she witnessed the angel's features change from a bloody, deformed mess to a look of pure shock. Buffy was certain that the new look matched her own. The robed man also saw the look upon the celestial's face and reiterated his conditions for victory. "Only one of you can leave these chambers." As he understood the Ogdoad's full meaning, Mikhail hung his head in sadness and let it rest there for several moments before he nodded slightly.

"So be it," he said numbly before looking determinedly towards Spike's prone form. Mikhail tried to rise several times but each attempt ended in failure, sending him sprawling back to the ground. So badly was the angel's sense of balance impaired, he could not even manage a kneeling position. Resigning himself to crawl, Mikhail began to drag himself towards Spike.

Any hope that Buffy may have felt when the robed man had said that the fight wasn't yet over was rapidly fading with every inch that the angel moved in Spike's direction. Buffy knew that if Spike didn't get up, the next time the angel called for the robed man there would be no argument over who had won the battle.

* * *

"I am not!" Dawn's protest surprised Cordelia, causing her to almost drop her hold on the young girl's arm. When she recovered, Cordelia knew that the tender approach wasn't going to work. That was fine with Cordelia; playing nice wasn't her speciality.

"Oh yes you are, Missy! And now you've got to figure out how to tap into that big ball of energy that you used to be if you want to save Spike." Cordelia let go of Dawn's arm and folded her own in front of her, almost daring Dawn to contradict her. Dawn looked as if she was going to start yelling in typical Dawn fashion but instead she swallowed her arguments.

"How do I do that?" Dawn's voice was quiet but determined. Sensing that determination, Cordelia turned towards the rest of the group.

"I think everyone in this room knows more about this kind of magic mumbo-jumbo than me," Cordelia said as she scanned the Scoobies. "Except Xander," she quickly added with a smile, provoking an injured "Hey!" out of her lover from years past.

"Well," Giles began, ignoring the final exchange between Cordelia and Xander, "if we start from the standpoint that Dawn can access her energy just like any other magically attuned person, it shouldn't be too difficult." Dawn's face brightened a little at the confidence that Giles was showing in her.

"We just need to guide her a little," Tara said, looking to Willow for support. To her dismay, Tara saw that Willow looked as distraught as Dawn did; maybe even more. Tara knew that she and Willow needed to talk, and soon, but first Spike needed to be saved. Tara reached out and took Dawn by one hand and Giles by the other. She led them over to Spike before switching out positions so that Dawn was in between herself and Giles. Tara looked back over her should at Willow, hoping that she would come and help, but the fearful look on her face almost broke Tara's heart.

"Just... reach down inside yourself, Dawn. Close your eyes and look within your mind."

"Find your centre," Giles said, picking up where Tara left off. "Shut out everything else and concentrate." Dawn, hand in hand with both Giles and Tara, did as she was told. She closed her eyes and searched within herself, looking for her magical centre. Her mind became focused, letting go of all the feelings from the past several weeks. She no longer heard the encouraging words that Tara and Giles said to her. She let go of the rush to help Spike, somehow knowing that it would only distract her. She let her mind drift within itself, somewhere between conscious and subconscious, until she saw it: a tiny ball of swirling pink energy.

Dawn sent her mind towards the ball, seeing it grow slowly in size as she neared it. When she was close enough to touch it, the ball had grown to size of a large clothes basket, just large enough for a teenage girl to curl up in. Suddenly, Dawn knew that was exactly what she needed to do. In her mind's eye, she entered the sphere. She hugged her knees to her chest and let the energy flow over and into her. It was a comforting experience, one she knew intimately from prior experience but could not say how or why. And as her mind lay there, curled up within the energy, Dawn gained all the knowledge she needed for the task at hand. Dawn opened her eyes and turned immediately to Angel.

"Now," she said, pointing to the knife that Angel held in his hand. The vampire investigator almost didn't follow the instructions given to him by Dawn, mostly because he could scarcely believe that the girl in front of him _was_ Dawn. Instead of flowing, waist length brown hair, Dawn now had calf length platinum hair with pink streaks woven throughout. Her eyes were no longer brown but were instead an infinite blue that Angel had to fight to look away from. Angel, as if prodded further by the motionless Dawn, was shocked back into action, cutting his arm and holding it above Spike's mouth so that the blood would find its mark.

As the blood fell into Spike's open mouth, the gathered crowd stared at both the process and its orchestrator in silence. The blood's flow slowed to a trickle as Angel's arm healed itself. When the last drops fell, Dawn began an incantation that no one, not even the groups' most experienced magic wielders, could understand. As she continued to speak, Dawn began moving her arms and hands in complex motions along with the spell. Suddenly, bright pink runes sprang to life and began circling around both Dawn and Spike. Tara reflexively reached out a hand to the young girl as the runes appeared but Giles was able to stop her from interfering.

"I do not think that would be wise," Giles said breathlessly as he continued to hold the Wiccan's arm. As if in response, the runes began to crackle with brilliant blue arcs before rushing out into Angel before he could react. The blue energy made contact with the now healed wound on Angel's arm. It then raced over, around and into the stunned vampire before leaving just as quickly as it had appeared. A drained and unconscious Angel collapsed in the waiting arms of Cordelia, who was in turned helped by the surprised but attentive Wes. The energy, after departing Angel, rushed into Spike's still open mouth. As the crackling energy disappeared into the comatose vampire, Spike began to shake violently. As he convulsed, Dawn began speaking louder and faster, forging a hypnotic rhythm of seemingly erratic movement. Blue light shone brightly out of all Spike's wounds before they rapidly began to mend. Just the wounds healed and the motions and words reached a crescendo, Dawn whispered words that were barely loud enough to hear but were easy for the awestruck onlookers to understand.

"Come back to me, Spike. I need you. I love you. I _believe_ in you." As if to punctuate her words, tears streamed down her face until a single tear fell and landed upon Spike's brow.

* * *

After a long, painfully difficult trek across the cavern floor, Mikhail finally dragged himself within reach of Spike's prostrate form. There the angel rested to slow his laboured breathing. When his lungs no longer burned with exertion, Mikhail withdrew his blade from it's sheath. As he did so, the room lit up with light that the sword gave off. To Buffy's bleary eyes, the sword appeared to be made purely of flame. The Slayer watched in resigned horror as the angel used the sword to bring himself to a kneeling position. The angel began to speak but, given his shattered jaw and the pain he went through speaking to the Ogdoad, he thought better of it. Instead, he put his sword to his head and sent his thoughts into the sword and let it speak for him.

"I am sorry, vampire," the sword hissed out in tones that reminded Buffy of the crackle that a fireplace makes in the winter. "But I have no choice in this matter. You were a... worthy foe. Were it within my power, I would watch over those you fight to return to. Sadly, this is not the case. I will pray for them and their safety. May you find peace in the Void." Buffy plead silently with Spike to get up, to show some reaction to the speech that the angel had dictated to his blade, but the Scourge of Sunnydale lay there motionlessly. As the angel raised his sword aloft, Buffy closed her eyes, unwilling to watch the gruesome end of her friend. Just as she closed her eyes, Buffy heard a familiar voice. The voice spoke in a whisper but it seemed to reverberate around the cavern.

"Come back to me, Spike," the voice, her sister's voice, echoed softly. Buffy was hardly able to comprehend it. How could her sister be here? She looked around the room frantically as Dawn spoke again.

"I need you." The omnipresence of the voice made it impossible to locate with her ears, forcing Buffy to search every nook and cranny of the cave with her eyes. Buffy quickly came to the conclusion that Dawn was not physically in the room with them, but it left her puzzled as to how her voice was in the room.

"I love you." Buffy's eyes were drawn to the bewildered angel who simply knelt without moving; keeping his sword poised for the killing strike while also keeping it ready for whatever new threat had appeared. As the angel craned his neck in his own attempts to locate the source of the voice, Buffy noticed a pink light descend from the ceiling and circle down to Spike's crippled body. It came to a rest on his forehead, pulsating slightly as if it were alive. Buffy suddenly knew that she was looking not at some random light, but at Dawn. Her sister, in her original form, was now pulsing softly on the head of the man who had once been her deadliest enemy, professing her love to him. And, for a reason that she did not yet understand, Buffy was happy.

"I _believe_ in you." After saying these words, the light lifted up and away, leaving a droplet of moisture on the vampire's head that was so small that not even the Slayer could see it. As the light passed upwards, it caught the eye of the wary angel, who slashed at it as best he could from his knees. As he slashed futilely at the escaping orb, Mikhail missed the transformation taking place on the floor. A dim blue light began feverishly knitting all of Spike's wounds together, mending broken bones and torn flesh alike. As the wounds healed faster and faster, the light became a brilliant blue, drawing Mikhail's attention back to his foe only to be blinded as the blue light reached its zenith. When his vision had returned to him, Spike was no longer a heap lying deathly still on the floor but was instead standing tall and impressive before him.

"Sorry, mate, but you heard the hooded monks," Spike said sadly to his awestruck opponent. "Only one o' us can make it back home. I'll make it quick." Spike sprang into action before Mikhail had any opportunity to comprehend the meaning of his words. Spike yanked the flaming blade out of Mikhail's now feeble grasp and raised it high above his own head. He brought the blade down cleanly and swiftly, slicing the angel's head off and putting the final end to the war of attrition he and Mikhail had fought. His need for it finished, Spike dropped the fiery weapon and walked over to a speechless Buffy.

"What's the matter, Slayer, you act like you've never seen a miracle before." Spike smirked at his wide eyed friend before turning away and calling out the name of the director of his punishment.

"Og-doodad," Spike called out, badly mispronouncing the creatures name and knowing it. "Robed guy! I beat you're little test. Bring on the last one so that I can get the _hell_ out o' here and back home." As soon as he was done speaking, the Ogdoad appeared in front of Spike. Spike started visibly, still unused to the creature's ability to appear instantaneously. Spike tried to cover his reaction by adjusting his badly damaged coat, hoping Buffy hadn't seen him jump.

"You have passed both the penultimate Trial and the final Trial, vampire," the Ogdoad said in his monotone voice. "And all in one fell swoop. Say your goodbyes to your friend while you still have time."

Spike looked to Buffy, who seemed as genuinely surprised as he was.

"What was the final trial?"

"Someone of a pure heart must both desire your return to your primary realm and be able to bring it about. The final Trial, the Trial of Friendship, has already been completed. The Key has unlocked the path for your return." Even as the Ogdoad spoke, Spike could feel himself slowly being pulled away from where he stood, like he was being drawn to another place, another plane. And indeed he was. As he began to fade ever so slightly, Buffy began to do the same. Her mission complete, the Powers were returning her to her well deserved rest in the afterlife.

"Spike, I-" Buffy began before Spike quickly cut her off.

"It's okay, luv'. I appreciate all of your help. I'll look out for Nibblet. Dyin' doesn't relieve me from my promise. I'll keep Dawn safe." Buffy closed the gap between them and placed a kiss on Spike's cheek before embracing him tightly.

"Thank you," Buffy said simply. Then, realising that this might be her last chance to pass along her well wishes to all her living friends, she separated herself from Spike briefly and caught his gaze with hers. "Make sure everyone knows that I love them, and that I always will." Spike smiled at her as he pulled her back into a hug.

"They already know, Slayer, but I'll tell 'em anyway." Buffy held her friend close as her eyes began to water. Buffy felt as if crying was the only thing she knew how to do anymore. She gave Spike a final tight squeeze and a smile before they both faded away and returned to their proper places in the universe.


	6. Consequences: Epilogue

**A/N:** _First and foremost, a thousand thanks to my beta, OrinForeverCrimson. She has been there for me through thick and thin. Okay folks, sorry about the massive delay. I believe that this will be my last instalment of the Redemption story. So, if you have any strong feelings about the story, be they good or ill, I would love to read about it. So, please read and review, but most importantly, enjoy!_

* * *

Dawn slumped over Spike, exhausted. The runes around her had faded and her hair and eyes had faded back to their normal shades. Everyone stood in a semi-circle of stunned silence around the couch. After a moment, Giles moved to Dawn's side and offered her his hand. The teen wearily took his outstretched hand and was lead away from Spike to an area where she could more comfortably rest. As the minutes ticked by, Dawn fell into a deep slumber while the Sunnydale residents and the visiting investigative team from Los Angeles buzzed quietly about what they had seen and why Spike still was not awake.

Angel had regained consciousness quickly after the magical transference had knocked him out, but he was still too weak to stand. Cordelia and Wesley sat beside him, checking over their vampiric leader.

"Do you need anything? Blood?" Cordelia kept her voice low in deference to the slumbering teenager on the other side of the room. Angel looked up at the former cheerleader and nodded slightly, amazed at just how much the woman had changed from the first time they had met.

"There is some blood in the fridge," Tara said softly from across the room. Coredelia looked to Wes, who nodded and stood before walking into the kitchen. Cordelia then looked back to Angel.

"How do you feel?"

"Like my insides have been worn for a hat." Angel's quiet response drew a light chuckle from the former socialite sitting beside him.

"I feel the same," Tara whispered into Willow's ear, who nodded slightly. "Willow, w-we need to t-talk." Willow, perplexed and surprised by the sudden return of Tara's speech impediment, frowned and manoeuvred so that she and Tara were face to face. "Not h-here. Upstairs. In p-private." Willow's frown deepened as she began to worry. The redhead frantically ran back the events of the day to see if maybe she had done something wrong. Drawing a blank, she followed Tara out of the living room and up the stairs into their room.

"What do you think is wrong with them?" Xander couldn't help but notice the worry on his best friend's face or the sadness on Tara's. His question, said softy into his wife-to-be's ear, drew only a shrug from Anya.

"Human relationships are hard," she said simply and quietly. Quietly for Anya, anyway, as the volume of her voice still drew Giles' ire-filled gaze, which she easily ignored. Xander, a bit taken aback by Anya's sudden insight, hoped with all of his heart that she didn't' sense his growing insecurities about their upcoming nuptials. He hoped even more fervently that she didn't have hidden doubts of her own. Instead of responding, Xander hugged Anya even tighter to himself, eliminating any open space between them, drawing a contented smile out of the ex-demon.

Wesley walked back into the living room and handed Angel a mug of warm blood. Angel fought to keep his arm from shaking and found that his strength was slowly coming back to him. After the first few sips of blood, he was sure that he could stand unassisted. Still, he was reluctant to try anytime soon.

"Thanks, Wes," Angel said in a low tone, keeping his voice as quiet as possible. The Brit nodded his acceptance and returned to his seat opposite Cordelia. Comfortable silence ruled the room until shouting could be heard from atop the stairs. Giles looked up sharply at the noise, then checked to make sure it had not awoken his sleeping ward. He stood noiselessly, ceasing his fatherly vigil and walked briskly towards the stairs. The remaining conscious people in the living room looked from one to another before following the former Watcher upstairs.

* * *

"What is it, baby?" Willow had silently followed Tara into their room, the whole time worrying about what she had done or what had happened. Tara had played this conversation over and over in her head, working out flowing speeches and flowery lectures, but now that the time had come she felt grossly unprepared. She decided that directness was the only way to go.

"You're afraid to work magic." Tara's statement made Willow flush in anger and embarrassment. She wanted to deny the accusation, to yell at Tara and to point out her flaws, and she wanted to run and hide. The redhead stood there, shaking, trying to formulate a comeback or a defense, and found that she could not.

"I pulled my best friend out of heaven, Tara. It is obvious that I don't know what I'm doing."

"Baby, you made a mistake. Anyone could-"

"_I didn't make a mistake_!" Willow's emotions finally became uncontrollable. Her outburst interrupted Tara's consolations, causing the brunette to flinch, and echoed around the room. Willow picked up the framed photo of her, Xander, and Buffy that sat on her nightstand and stared at it mournfully "I did what I thought was right, what she would have done for us, for _me_."

"You c-c-can't hide from magic, Willow. It's part of w-who you are." Tara was doing her very best to keep her voice level in the face of Willow's emotion, but it was causing the elder Wiccan to stutter badly.

"It is not!" Willow's petulant reply had her words sounding off of he walls once again. "At least, it doesn't have to be. I can change! I can go back to old Willow, to regular, computer Willow!" Willow eyes frantically searched Tara's face for acceptance to her words, but she found only sadness in her lover's features.

"Willow," Tara said as calmly as she could manage, "I will always love you, no matter if your cracking codes or casting spells. Whatever you choose to do, I will always be there for you." Tara looked wistfully at her red haired lover. "But who are you trying to convince? Me... or you?"

And there it was, plain for Willow to see. She had been avoiding magic, not because she was afraid that she would ruin something, but because she was avoiding _herself_. Willow had done horrible things to cast the resurrection spell, things that would haunt her forever, and _still_ Buffy wasn't with them.

Willow was disgusted with herself, far more so than she had realised when Xander drew her out of her shell only a few weeks prior. Xander had led her out of the cage of self pity she had put herself in but she had entered a stage of quiet self loathing all on her own. She hated herself, not for casting the spell, because Willow truly believed that the _idea_ of bringing Buffy back was the right one. No, Willow hated herself for doing those terrible things to just to _try_ and bring Buffy back. Giles had taught them early on that only the bad guys believed that the ends justified the means. And that was exactly what she had thought as she had slit the deer's neck. _The ends justify the means_. And the unfair part was that it hadn't worked. Willow had very nearly given herself up to true darkness, and for what?

"The road to hell," Willow muttered to herself.

"It is paved with good intentions," Giles finished softly from the doorway of the Wiccans' shared room. Willow couldn't remember whether or not they had closed it. She turned and saw not only Giles but that the hallway was filled with everyone from downstairs and instantly much of her anger dissipated, if only to be replaced by embarrassment. She looked over to Tara, who had an understanding, if shaky, smile on her face.

"It looks like our private talk wasn't private after all." Gone as quickly as it had surfaced was Tara's stutter. Her true love had, if not solved, at least confronted her problems, lifting a heavy burden from Tara's heart.

"We, ah, heard the shouting," Giles began as he removed his glasses to polish away some imagined substance.

"We just wanted to make sure everything was okay," Cordelia said brightly, taking up where Giles had left off.

"It's okay." Willow was still coming to terms with herself, but gone was her bitterness. She had many things to work on in the days ahead, but she knew that through it all she would have friends and loved ones there to help her out.

"You sure this time, Wilster? 'Cause you said the same thing two weeks ago." Xander teasing comment was softened by the humour in his voice. Willow looked again to Tara, who nodded.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Good. Can we go back downstairs now?" _Anya's bluntness never seems to fail her_, thought Willow wryly. "My feet hurt and my neck aches from trying to see through everyone into the room." Xander chuckled a little as he led Anya, as well as everyone else, back to the living room.

"Anya, honey, sometimes..." Xander didn't finish his statement as the closing of the front door caught his eye from the top of the stairwell. He swore that he saw a familiar black duster glinting in the moonlight just before the door closed. "Spike?"

* * *

A jolt of awakening ran through Spike like an electric current. His eyes shot open and sat upright on the couch. He took in all of his surroundings rapidly, detecting departing footsteps on the stairs and Willow's shouted words from her room. He also saw Dawn sleeping soundly across the room and Angel staring warily at him. Spike stood cautiously, amazed that his joints and muscles weren't stiff. He had no idea how long he had been gone but he suspected that it wasn't nearly as long as it had felt like on his end.

Choosing to ignore the hard gaze from Angel, Spike moved towards Dawn, unsure whether to wake her or to let her sleep. As he drew nearer, his dilemma was solved for him as Dawn's eyes fluttered open.

"Spike?" Her voice was filled with awe and wonder. Dawn was overjoyed to see her vampiric protector actually up and moving. Her excitement was evident on her face, and Spike knew that unless he did something the girl was likely to let out one of her patented squeals. Spike did the only thing that he thought would keep her quiet; he leaned down and brought Dawn's head towards him before kissing her passionately and deeply. When he broke the kiss, certain that the young woman had need of air, he stepped back.

"Wow," Dawn muttered breathlessly as her eyelids fluttered. Her heart was beating so rapidly that she was certain it would wake the neighbours. Spike could easily hear that heartbeat, so full of life, beating the drums of love, and he was humbled.

"Listen, luv'. I need to go away for a bit." Dawn's eyes grew wide and frantic as she began to protest.

"What! You can't leave, not now, not after everything!" Dawn's shrill voice was somewhat overshadowed by another outburst from upstairs, but Spike heard it loud and clear. Before Dawn could utter any more protests Spike put a finger to her lips.

"Nibblet, I need to make some changes. I've come face to face with all the little nasties from my past. I love you." Spike paused, a little shocked that he had said it and he immediately knew that he meant it.

"I _love_ you," Spike reiterated more confidently, "but I've got some things to do to be worthy of your love. I wanna' be a man you can be proud of. I don't know how long I'll be gone, but I'll 'ave someone look after you in my place." Spike looked to Angel, who nodded slowly. "Nothin'll happen to you, I _swear, _but this is somethin' I have to do." Spike leaned in and kissed Dawn again, a bit more chastely the second time around. Then he got up and turned back to Angel.

"I know you don't owe me anythin'," Spike began before shaking his head. "Bugger that, you owe me plenty." His words drew a scowl from his recovering sire. "This will make us even. You look after her," Spike pointed to Dawn, "as if she was the cheerleader you're so obviously in love with. Watch over her, because Buffy'll be watchin' over you. You wouldn't want to upset the Slayer, now would you?"

"On my life, I'll keep her safe. But not for you. For Dawn. For Buffy." The vampires stared at one another until both were certain that they knew where they stood. Then Spike grabbed his coat and walked towards the front door. He knew that if he looked back at Dawn he wouldn't be able to leave, so he went out the door without a glance back.

* * *

Xander led the group down the stairs in a hustle. When it became apparent that Spike had indeed left, everyone began talking at once.

"I can't believe it, the ingrate!" Cordelia's opinion seemed to work for Wes, as he nodded his head in emphatically, mouth open in disbelief.

"Why would he just leave," a bewildered Willow asked Tara, who could only shake her head.

"I can't believe this guy! After everything we've done for him." Xander threw his arms up in disgust. "I can't believe I thought that he had changed."

Only Giles seemed to notice that Dawn was awake and sporting a stunned look on her face. Misinterpreting the cause of the look, Giles moved to console his young ward.

"Dawn, child, what happened? Are you alright?" There were tear streaks down her face, but when Dawn looked at Giles she gave him a smile that lit up the room.

"He loves me."


End file.
